


Petty Pace

by aewriting



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Abusive Jesse Manes, Alcohol Use (underage), Alternate Universe - High School, Angsty with a tiny tiny bit of hope at the end, Brief mention of attempted child sexual abuse (non graphic), Canon typical underage sexual behavior, Child Abuse, Foster Care, Homophobia, M/M, Marijuana, Mentions of drugs, Prequel, Threats, Violence, description of injury, emotional and physical abuse, loss of limb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22431148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aewriting/pseuds/aewriting
Summary: This is my RNM Fanfic Remix 2020 fic!  It is a prequel to reachedthebitterend's excellent fic, "freaky friday," in which Alex, Maria and Liz are the aliens.***After a string of bad foster placements, Alex is sent to live with the Manes family in Roswell. His plan to keep his head down and stay out of trouble becomes more complicated when he realizes he isn't the only alien in town... and that he has feelings for Jesse Manes's youngest son, Michael.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 30
Kudos: 80
Collections: RNM Fanfic Remix 2020





	Petty Pace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reachedthebitterend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachedthebitterend/gifts).
  * Inspired by [freaky friday](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206054) by [reachedthebitterend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachedthebitterend/pseuds/reachedthebitterend). 



> Please mind the tags. Given the point at which "freaky friday" begins, this fic covers some dark territory.

It wasn’t that Ed had overdosed.

That had happened before. Christmas, two years ago, and the Steelers versus Broncos playoff game this past winter. He’d recovered, both times. It was easy to keep under wraps.

But this time… shit, it had happened in the Wal-Mart bathroom. And that meant cops. Paramedics. Child and Youth Services.

“You’re being transferred back to Roswell.”

Alex looks up, sharply.

“That’s where you were first found, right? First group home was out that way?”

He nods. His caseworker smiles.

“Looks like a real nice family. Your new foster dad, he’s a real pillar of the community.”

He scoffs. Yeah, two foster dads ago had been a community pillar, too. And look how that had ended up.

The others had called it an act of God. He’d just called it self-defense.

“And he’s got four boys! Two in the house still – maybe some friends for you.”

He fixes her with a flat, bored look. Her jaw twitches.

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened to Ed.”

“I’m just sorry that you got involved,” he says, coldly. “At least he left me alone.”

“You’ve got three more years,” she says, after a long pause. “Just, just try, okay?”

He shrugs.

***

Dude’s kind of an asshole. He’s an Air Force guy, and Alex has no earthly idea why he’d want to take on another kid, especially a teenager like Alex. Like, he’s got enough on his plate. He seems fine. Kind of a tightass, but whatever.

Oldest two sons are both in the military, stationed somewhere else. One’s deployed. Alex has a feeling he’s gonna have to sit through a lot of talk about boring military shit. A lot of ra-ra jingoism. As long as they’re not expecting _him_ to join in, he can tune it out. Probably.

But he wonders if it’ll worm its way in, the way all those fucking church songs did. The way…

He shakes his head. He’s not even human. Can he really be… gay if he’s not even human? Like, the rules don’t even apply… do they?

Two sons still live at home. Flint and Michael. Flint’s sort of an asshole. Condescending. Dismissive. Whatever. Alex can live with that. He mostly just leaves Alex alone.

Younger one’s rubbing him wrong, though. Wears his hair high and tight, even though he’s years away from the military. Super eager to please – seems a little desperate for it, honestly. And he wants Alex to like him, which just… like, give it up, dude. Alex’s plan for these next three years is to keep his head down, get through it. He’s not here to make friends. Not gonna be besties with his new foster brother, or whatever.

He just needs to age out, get the fuck out of Roswell, and get on with his life.

***

That _was_ the plan, anyway. Before the first day of school. Before Liz. Before Maria.

He walks into the high school and knows immediately that something is up. It’s like a subtle… presence. He’s hyperaware, moving through the halls. Michael, fucking Michael, even notices.

“You okay, man? I know it’s not easy, being the new – “

Alex rolls his eyes at him, which shuts him up. He actually seems hurt.

“Um, okay then. I’ll leave you to it.”

Alex doesn’t have to wait long. He’s in home room, and, very suddenly, he’s _somewhere else._

One moment, he’s staring at the teacher, and the next, he’s staring at a beautiful girl, the world gone shimmering around them. She’s asking him questions.

_Where are you from?_

_Santa Fe._

Her eyes narrow. _Before that. What’s the first thing you can remember?_

And it’s like… fuck, it’s like he has to tell her. _The pod._

He’s snapping out of it, then, looking around madly. The girl, she’s here, in the classroom with him, raising her hand wildly.

“Mr. Gomez? Mr. Gomez?”

“Yes, Maria?” the man responds, edge of exasperation to his voice.

“I’m supposed to show… the new student around the school. The principal asked me to do that _right now_.”

He seems confused, initially, but then almost blank. “Yes, of course, Maria. That would be very helpful. Take as long as you need.”

She smiles, smugly. “Thank you.”

Alex lets his arm be grabbed, lets her lead him out of the classroom, into the hall. Before he knows what is happening, he’s being pushed into the women’s bathroom, into a stall.

“The fuck?”

And then she’s embracing him, and maybe Alex should be alarmed, but the presence is _right here_ , now, and he realizes it’s _her_ , and –

“It’s you,” she gasps, hugging him tighter. “Oh my god, it’s _you_.”

He basically misses his entire first day of school, and no one cares, thanks to Maria. After their bathroom reunion, Maria liberates another girl, Liz, from class, too, and the three of them leave, drive out into the desert together. Cry, Laugh. See the pods. It’s like it’s meant to be.

It also… complicates things.

Because, Alex finds, it was easier when it was just him.

Not _better_ … but easier.

When it was just him, there was no one else to worry about. He… he was good at staying under the radar. Gritting his teeth and just getting through a bad situation. But Maria and Liz?

They’re wonderful. Funny and kind, and they… they love him. Accept him. He’s never had that before. And they have families that seem to love and accept them too.

And he knows… knows that he’s the weak link here. He always thought he just had to make it to 18 without incident, then get out. After that, he often drew a blank. Did he want to dig deeper and learn more about himself? Or would it be preferable to just… disappear? Drive away and not stop till he’s in, like, fucking Tennessee or something? Play his music, lay low? Just… just not have to answer to anyone?

But now…

God, he loves them. He loves Liz. He loves Maria. They’re family, but it’s even more than that – they’re the _only ones_ , that they know of. Three pods, that’s it in the cave. They’re linked, and they’re _it._ And now, it’s not just about him.

***

It takes him a while, longer than it should, to realize he’s being watched.

Jesse _watches_ him. Seems to study him. Stares at him.

There’s fear at first. Rage. How, how can it be the same fucking thing all over again, same as that fucker in Santa Fe? He assumes it’s about sex, because what else would it be? Does he have a fucking sign on him? He… he’s not a kid anymore. Well, he _is_ , but not like he was the first time. He, he knows now, that people aren’t just nice to be nice. Not that Jesse is _nice,_ exactly. But yeah, people have an agenda. Grown men who stare at him? They have a fucking agenda.

But the more it goes on, he… he doesn’t think it’s _that._

The attention he gets from Jesse… it’s distant. Colder. Detached.

It comes to him in biology one day, as he’s looking at a sliced segment of a brain. A human brain. God knows what his own brain would look like, pickled and neatly carved, like this… and as he looks around, sees the faces of his classmates, he realizes. Jesse looks at him like a specimen.

It’s a chilling thought.

Could he suspect? Does he know?

***

Flint is the first one who gets hit. It shouldn’t be as shocking as it is, to Alex, but he just… just wasn’t expecting it. Not here. He’s been in other settings where things turned violent, but it was more… overt. Lots of drinking. Angry shouting. Messy. With Jesse, it’s… cold. Strategic. Calculating. Makes it worse, somehow.

It’s Michael who intercepts him, that evening, pale and serious. Grabs him by the arm and pulls him into his bedroom.

“What the –“

“Shut up, man,” Michael says, in a voice more serious than Alex has ever heard. “Keep out of his fucking sight, okay? This is a bad one.”

And suddenly, a lot seems to make sense to Alex. The careful way Michael flatters Jesse, aims to please. The way he dresses and wears his hair and does everything the way Jesse wants.

And in a flash, Alex realizes that he may know precisely nothing about the real Michael, beyond the fact that he’s terrified of his father.

“Here,” Michael is saying, pulling out some books, a laptop. “Here,” he says, holding out a pair of headphones to Alex.

Alex is looking at him, confused.

Michael bites his lip, a little. “If he barges in here, and we’re just sitting here listening, we’ll be in his crosshairs too. So… so just look busy, okay? Like,” he shuffles papers around, “pretend to be doing homework, listening to music.” Michael swallows. “He, he might not come in. He might not. But if he does…”

“I didn’t know,” Alex says, finally.

Michael nods a little. “Doesn’t happen a lot, but when it does…” He leans in and speaks very softly. “Flint scratched the Jeep up. Like, this is gonna be bad. Just… please stay out of his way. You…” Michael trails off.

“What?”

Michael looks at his face, then, his mouth. Looks away quickly. “You push it, you know? The way you dress and act. I, I can’t believe he hasn’t come after you yet. If any of us did shit like that…” He looks down. “Don’t want him coming after you, is all.”

And Alex… he feels almost mad at that. “So what are you suggesting I fucking do? Buzz my hair? Join the young fucking republicans? Erase my personality, like you?”

He feels bad immediately. Michael looks like he’s been slapped. He almost… almost looks like he’s going to fucking cry.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says quickly, voice low.

Michael shrugs. “You’re not wrong,” he finally murmurs, before jamming his earbuds in.

In the background, Alex hears Jesse’s low, cold voice. The sound of flesh hitting flesh.

***

Flint graduates that year. Goes Army. Jesse has a little party in the back yard. Alex originally comes down the stairs in all black. Hair spiked. Michael’s eyes widen.

“You trying to get us fucking killed?” he hisses, and guides Alex back upstairs. To Michael’s room. He pulls out a bland, buffalo-check shirt, shoves it at Alex. “Put this on, on top. And fix your hair.”

Alex stares at him.

“Don’t make me beg.”

Something twists, a little, inside Alex, at that. He… he doesn’t like to think about Michael begging. Wonders if he’s ever begged his dad. To stop. He shakes his head.

But the idea of Michael begging _him_ …

Oh god, oh no. Nope. Fuck.

He swallows hard, takes the shirt. “Fine,” he says quickly as he buttons it up over his black t-shirt. It smells like Michael.

Michael gives him a tight little half-smile. “Thanks.” He looks away, quickly, as Alex licks his own palm and starts flattening his hair.

Alex has managed to stay under the radar all day, he thinks. Jesse’s in his element. A bunch of his military buddies were at the graduation party, and he was manning the grill, bragging about his three wonderful sons already in the military, and his fourth, sure to follow. Jesse’s praised for taking in “that other poor boy,” and Alex has spent the day giving polite smiles. It’s a lot. He doesn’t want to do this. If it was just him, he’d have worn all fucking black. He’d have skipped the hell out of this shitty party and driven to the desert.

But it’s not just him.

He looks over at Michael, standing in front of Jesse. Flint’s gone out with friends, and Jesse’s looking drunker than Alex has ever seen. Tired.

“Yes, sir,” he hears Michael say, and then Jesse is going inside. Michael slides up next to him with a trash bag. “He wants us to clean up.”

Alex groans a little and looks at the back yard. It will be a big job, but he’s not going to be an asshole and make Michael do it all by himself. “Okay,” he says.

It takes them hours, even working together. They get the job done, though, and at the end of the night, Michael gives Alex a little look and gestures to the tool shed. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s make sure no one messed up anything inside here.”

Alex looks at him quizzically, and Michael gives him a wink, reveals an almost-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Alex smirks a little and follows him.

There’s one bare little bulb lighting up the inside of the tool shed. Michael swipes at a dusty bench – a big motion, clearing enough room for the two of them to sit down, side by side. Michael smiles when Alex settles himself next to him, legs and hips touching. Michael uncaps the whiskey – some cheap, smokey brand, and takes a long pull straight from the bottle. Passes it to Alex.

There’s something about this that feels… intimate to Alex. He brings the bottle to his own lips, trying not to think about how Michael’s lips were just _right here_ , wrapped around this same bottle…

Because, fuck, yeah, he thinks Michael’s hot. Like, he thought so from the get go, from the first time he ever saw him almost a year ago. But now it’s… it’s more than that. Michael’s been _nice_ to him. Tried to protect him from his shitty dad, shared food and jokes with him. He, he _likes_ Michael.

And that’s fucking dangerous.

He looks right at Michael, then, all big-eyed, wet lips, staring at Alex, smelling of whiskey and sweat…

“I’m tired,” Alex says abruptly. “I’m gonna…”

And Michael slinks back, a little. “Sure, man. I’ll be up in a few.”

Alex closes the door to the shed and takes a few shuddering breaths.

This… this is fucking dangerous.

***

After Flint leaves for basic, Jesse decides to start having movie nights.

Alex, as he so often does when it comes to Jesse, looks to Michael for guidance.

Michael just shrugs. “I dunno, man, he’s never really done this before. Just… just go with it, okay?”

So Alex nods. Goes with it.

First movie they watch is Independence Day.

Alex sits through it silently, trying not to grimace. He steals glances at Michael, every so often. He looks once, at Jesse, just to find him staring right at him. Shit.

It ends, and Michael stretches. Alex swallows, redirects his gaze forward. 

“Thanks for the pizza, Dad,” Michael is saying, overly bright. Jesse just nods and watches Michael go upstairs. Alex tries to follow, but Jesse stops him.

“Tell me, Alex… what did you think of the movie?”

He swallows thickly. “It… um, the special effects were good.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Jesse’s face. “Yeah.” He narrows his eyes. “Sleep well tonight, okay?”

Next movie is Gattaca. It’s Jesse’s choice. It’s _always_ Jesse’s choice.

He watches… watches Ethan Hawke, and Jude Law, then tries _not_ to watch too closely when he feels Jesse’s eyes on him.

At the end, Michael’s bending down, picking up the popcorn bowl off the low coffee table to rinse it out, and Alex knows not to look at that, either.

And then Jesse is clapping a heavy hand on Alex’s shoulder, not letting go, just holding him in place. “This whole thing isn’t so far-fetched,” he says, free hand gesturing to the now-blank television. “It’s really amazing, what they can do now. With DNA. The things they can tell.”

And the hand on his shoulder, still gripping hard, runs up the back of his neck, and up further, into his hair.

***

He feels so trapped.

The social worker comes to the house periodically, and it’s always fine when she’s there. She smiles at him indulgently, impressed that he has his own room, an allowance, even a cell phone and car privileges here.

“And a friend!” she says, looking warmly at Michael, who is smiling sweetly back at her.

They’d discussed this in advance of the visits, a few times. Alex and Michael.

“If he… if he comes after you, ever… I could tell someone,” Alex had said. “I mean, I’m in foster care, so this sort of shit isn’t supposed to happen. Like, there’s a caseworker I could call. Don’t know if she’d actually do anything about it, but… it would be on record, you know? Build a case?”

Michael had shaken his head vigorously. “No, no, he’s been… he’s been good lately. Maybe,” he’d paused, “maybe with Flint and the others gone, it’s not as much? Like, I try to be – “ he’d faltered, “try not to, like, rock the boat, you know?” He’d snuck a look at Alex, then. “And he’s best friends with Sheriff Valenti. So.”

And Alex had nodded. “Yeah.”

Michael had launched into a full-on stare after that, like he was trying to figure something out. “It ever… it ever get bad other places for you?”

And that’s when Alex _knew_ that he couldn’t tell the caseworker the truth of what he’d seen here, about Jesse’s fight with Flint. Because now, it’s not just him. It’s him, and it’s Michael, and where would they send Michael even if they were believed? It would be one thing if it was just Alex. He’s used to being discarded, ignored… mistreated. But Michael is, Michael is _good,_ and kind, and –

What’s that they say about the devil you know versus the devil you don’t?

“Yeah,” Alex had muttered, and left the room. Michael already knew one devil. He didn’t have to know others, too.

***

Alex doesn’t tell Maria and Liz about Jesse.

They hang out all the time. Michael thinks he’s sleeping with Maria.

“She’s _hot,_ man. You should go for it.”

Alex had shrugged. “She’s not really my type.”

“Well what _is_ your type?”

_Um, has a dick._ Alex had just shrugged, again.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed. Like, he’d actually told Maria and Liz about how, how he liked guys. Thought they were hot. Didn’t say who, exactly, he thought was hot. Kept it very general. They’d thought it was great – fun, even, to discuss all the different guys they knew with Alex, like that.

Maria’d talked about girls, too.

But it doesn’t feel right, with Michael. Not yet. Because of Jesse. And because…

Because the hottest guy Alex knows is also his fucking foster brother. God damn it.

“How ‘bout you?” he asks Michael. “You done anything with Isobel?”

Michael’s best friend is a guy named Max. Big guy, kind of a dork. Keeps to himself. He’s a twin, and his sister is this super hot ice queen named Isobel. And Michael… well, Michael’s with them all the damn time, to the point where Alex is honestly a little jealous, but he can’t exactly say that. And it… it would make sense if Michael had a thing with Isobel. Like, they would look good together.

But Michael scrunches up his face. “Izzy? Oh god, _no_.” He shakes his head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s cool and all… a little high maintenance, maybe, but cool.” He shrugs his shoulder. “I mean, I don’t really think of her like that. She’s more like a sister than anything. And it’s not like I’d fuck my sister,” he says, laughing.

_Or your foster brother_ , Alex thinks.

***

The movie nights continue. And he swears the threats, from Jesse, aren’t just in his head. Like, everything he says would be easy to deny. There’s nothing over the top. But it’s just always there, this subtle sense of dread that maybe Jesse knows something.

He tries to pull back. Lay really low. He hangs out with Maria and Liz… until Liz starts dating Max. Yeah, _that_ Max. Nerdy, love-poem-writing, head-over-heels-for-Liz Max. Even Michael’s annoyed.

“Like, I never see him anymore,” he complains. “And don’t get me wrong, Ortecho’s cool, and really smart, but Jesus, that’s all he talks about anymore.”

Alex is nodding in commiseration. “No, it’s the same thing with Liz. They’re always together now.” Alex obviously can’t say it to Michael, but he doesn’t think it’s the best idea for them to be dating _any_ humans. They barely know anything about themselves – what if a partner discovered something… unexpected? And their powers are harder to control when emotions are strong. He guesses, though, that if Liz was going to try with anyone, he’s glad it’s Max. Because the other guy that’s been trying to get in her pants is Kyle fucking Valenti, homophobe extraordinaire and son of the Sheriff. So, yeah, Evans is an upgrade compared to that shit. It has changed the dynamic, though, of their little trio. Alex has been spending a lot more time with Maria and her Mom, Mimi. Mimi seems to have a little history with Jesse, asks Alex questions sometimes.

“Is he treating you well?”

And, honestly, how to answer that? It’s not that Jesse has… done anything. He’s just implied, a _lot._ And it’s very, very clear to Alex that, in the past, Jesse _did_ do things. To his own children. Things that have made Michael, wonderful Michael, shrink into himself. Put on a face, a persona, a whole life that isn’t really his.

And for that, Alex hates Jesse most of all.

***

They finish 11th grade without incident. He’s still the weird foster kid, the outsider, but the fact that he’s _Jesse’s_ foster kid, and Michael’s foster brother, affords him some degree of acceptance. They’ll be seniors next year, and Alex is one year closer to freedom.

And speaking of freedom…

Flint’s being deployed, and Jesse is driving out to Fort Sill for a full week, to say goodbye and… fuck knows what else. Originally, Alex thinks Jesse might drag him and Michael along, but Michael has football practice. And god knows Jesse’s all about honoring commitments.

Jesse types (fucking _types)_ a long list of rules for while he’s gone. He packs the car, and as soon as he’s out of sight, Michael transforms. Takes a deep breath, raises his face to the sky, then grins at Alex.

“Let’s get drunk.”

They do. Some cheap wine Jesse got as a host gift at Flint’s graduation party last summer. They drink right from the bottle, out in the back yard, kicking up dust around the fire pit and telling stories. And then, out of nowhere, Michael pulls out a joint.

“Hey, you wanna…?”

His voice trails off, and Alex is looking at him in surprise. “Sure. Where’d you get this?”

The wine’s made Michael relaxed, languid. Alex tries not to think too much about the heat of him, pressed up against Alex’s side on the bench they’re sharing. “Tess Harding.”

Alex’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Whoa, really?”

Michael flashes a wicked little grin. “Yup. With Dad outta town this week, I think I might… you know…”

Alex is looking at him in confusion, then it clicks. “Oh! Oh, yeah, wow.”

“Yeah,” Michael repeats, lighting the joint, taking a pull, and passing it to Alex. “You, um, you ever…?”

“No,” Alex says quickly.

“You could, man. You’re a good-looking guy. Like, I’m sure Tess could set you up with one of her friends.”

And it just comes out. He doesn’t know if it’s the wine, the weed, or just Michael. “I’m gay.”

Michael’s eyes widen, and for an instant, Alex almost hopes he recoils. If, if he wasn’t so nice to him, if he didn’t seem to want to spend time with him, this would be easier. Easier to leave Roswell. Easier not to like him so much, not get so… attached.

But Michael doesn’t recoil. “Wow, really? I… how did you know?”

Alex rolls his eyes, lets out a bitter laugh. “How do _you_ know you want to fuck Tess? Like, you just know. Your body, it kind of decides for you.”

And Michael is biting his lip, thoughtful. And so damn oblivious, Alex thinks, like this. And then Michael’s hand is on his arm, turning him to face him, and he’s _so_ serious.

“You… don’t tell Dad. Please. Like, I know it’s shitty of me to ask you this, but I think he would just, like, totally flip.” The joint is just burning down in his other hand, like he’s forgotten about it. “I… he…” Michael exhales hard. “He tolerates a lot, with you, shit he wouldn’t with me, with my brothers. But something like this.” Michael is looking at him, so earnestly. “I don’t want him to hurt you. Say shit to you.” Michael rubs at his face. “You’ve never seen him really bad,” he says, voice low, a confessional. “Used to knock me around all the time. Broke my collarbone,” he pulls his shirt down, “here. Said… said he’d fucking kill me if I told anyone it was him and I… I believed him.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t know why I’m telling you this shit. It’s… it’s been better, these past few years. I just, just do what he wants and he mostly leaves me alone, you know? But something like, like you being gay? He’s a bigot. And mean.” Alex has never heard Michael speak like this, about Jesse. “Part of me hates him. But part of me…” and Michael trails off, then. “Well, he’s here, you know? He stayed. He stayed when mom didn’t.”

And they stay, too, in the tool shed that night, too exhausted even to go to the house. Drunk and high, emotionally drained. When Alex wakes up with Michael next to him, it takes everything in him to get up, get out, rather than curl in and _stay_.

He hears them. Michael and Tess.

Jesse’s house is a 1960s ranch, four bedrooms. Big open living area, with a television and a dining table. A smallish kitchen, with a laundry area attached to it. Off the laundry room there’s a door to the basement. Alex has rarely been down there. It’s unfinished – pretty much just a long concrete room with boxes and a narrow, steep staircase. One side of the house is the master bedroom suite, then another bedroom that Jesse’s converted into an office. It’s locked all the time. Jesse is just fucked up enough that it wouldn’t surprise Alex if there’s extra security measures in place in there, so he doesn’t mess with it. On the other side of the living area are the two other bedrooms and a little bathroom you access from the hall.

He’s in his room, when he first hears them. They share a wall, and it’s loud. A rhythmic thumping. He tries his headphones, but he can’t stop thinking about it.

Then the phone is ringing, and _shit,_ it’s 9:30 pm on a weeknight, their curfew, and it could only be one person calling.

Alex races out of his bedroom, ignoring Tess’s moans. Grabs the phone. “Hello?” he answers, out of breath.

“All’s well at the house?”

“Yeah, everything’s good here.”

“Where’s Michael? Could you put him on?”

God damn it. “He, he’s sleeping actually.” There’s silence. “Long practice today, he said. Pretty much just like, collapsed as soon as he got home. Should I have him call you tomorrow?”

More silence. Then, “Yes. Have him call me.”

Alex allows himself an exhale, too early.

“You’re a good liar, Alex.”

It’s like a gut punch. “Sir?”

“Plenty of practice, I suppose. Have him call me tomorrow. 7am, or I’m coming straight home.”

Alex is just holding the phone in disbelief.

“Alex?”

“Yes,” he gets out. “Yes, yes sir, I’ll have him call you at 7am tomorrow.”

The line clicks off, and Alex is still just staring at the phone when Michael’s bedroom door opens and Tess and Michael walk out. Flushed. Smiling.

“Oh! Alex!” she says, surprised. “I, uh, I forgot that you and Michael were, like…”

“Brothers,” Michael says, easily.

And at that moment, Alex just feels so… off. So done. “Your dad wants you to call him. 7am tomorrow. Set an alarm.” And at that, Alex stalks back to his bedroom. Slams the door a little too hard.

“He’s kind of weird,” he hears Tess murmur.

“Nah, he’s a good guy, really good guy.”

_Oh, Michael, if only you knew…_

She comes over a few more times that week. Alex tries to be gone, when he can. Helps Mimi unload stuff at the bar, watches television with Maria. He’s always back in time for Jesse’s nightly check-ins. And the night before Jesse is set to return, he finds himself in the shed again, with Michael.

“No Tess tonight?” he asks, tightly.

“Nah,” Michael says. “She had a thing. I… I don’t even know what we are, man. Like, it’s fun, with her, but…”

Alex tries to look supportive.

“I don’t feel like I can really, like, talk to her all that much.”

Alex shrugs. Tonight it’s liquor. They’re taking it slow, and the burn is pleasant.

“You think Dad is gonna, like, kick you out soon as you turn 18?”

“You’ve known him longer than I have,” Alex mutters. “But nah, I’m not planning to give him the chance. I’m not gonna impose.”

“What _do_ you think you’ll do? Next year, after graduation?”

Alex blows out a breath, looks at his feet. “Just, um, get outta here. Maybe play music, go to a bigger city, somewhere I can be a little more, um, free…”

Michael’s mouth quirks up at the corner. “Yeah. I can see it, Alex. In fact, wait here.”

He’s up and out of the shed, and Alex takes a big pull from the bottle. It’s gin, which he doesn’t really like, but he _does_ want the heat, the fade into numbness. He’s had to listen to Michael fuck Tess all week, and Jesse comes back tomorrow. He… he’s allowed to have this, he thinks.

And then Michael’s back, with a barely concealed grin and a beautiful guitar.

“Here you go.”

“What?” Alex leans back, rather than reach out for the guitar. “This is a really nice guitar, Michael.”

“Yeah, I know – a really nice guitar that Flint used for like two weeks then never touched again.” He sees Michael’s jaw tighten. “And he sure won’t need it in fucking Iraq. So it’s yours.”

And Alex _does_ take it then. Reaches out, almost reverent, and his hand brushes Michael’s and –

“Thanks,” he says quickly. “Seriously, thank you.”

Michael looks pleased, nods. “I know you’ll use it. You should take it with you. After graduation.”

Alex strums it, experimentally. It’s woefully out of tune. Michael sits down next to him, heavily, and takes a big swallow of the liquor, makes a face.

“God, do people actually drink gin straight?”

“We could put juice with it.”

“If we had it,” Michael laughs. It goes quiet then, except for the sounds of Alex tuning the guitar.

“What are you going to do, after graduation?”

And Michael makes a face at that, looks skyward and leans his head against the wall. “I don’t really have a choice. Except maybe which branch.”

Alex stills. “You can’t, you can’t be serious.”

Michael lifts a shoulder, resigned. “I’m thinking Air Force, probably.”

“You can’t!” Alex says, more forcefully than either of them expect. “You, you’re so smart, Michael. With, like, math and science. You should be in college somewhere, somewhere good! I mean, you have to at least apply.”

Michael is laughing, now, and it’s dark-sounding. “I don’t have a fucking choice, Alex. Gotta put in my time just like any other Manes man.”

“But you’re _not_ any other Manes man, Michael,” Alex says, emphatically. “You’re different. What… what if you got a scholarship or something? Didn’t need to rely on your dad anymore?”

Michael exhales shakily.

“Come on, Michael. Military’s just going to be another how many years of following orders. Don’t you want to pick your own movies to watch? Dress how you want?” Ales feels the heat coming to his cheeks, but says it anyway. “Grow out your fucking hair?”

Michael rubs the back of his head, reflexively. “When you say it, Alex, shit… I want it. You, you make me feel like this could, could be…” He trails off, and when he looks at Alex, there’s a new expression on his face, something’s Alex has never seen before and can’t quite understand.

And then, just as quickly, it’s gone. Michael’s face is downturned and he’s shaking his head. “We better clean this up. Dad’ll lose his shit if he finds out what we were doing out here.”

***

“Escuchame, Alex,” Liz is saying, hands on hips. “We will be fine. Maria and I will be fine!” She shakes her head. “So do what you want. Like, it’s 2007. There are phones, computers.” Her face softens. “We’ve been lucky, Alex. Arturo and Mimi are just… they’re the best. And even with that, I’m planning on getting out of here, too, going into biomed, figuring out a little more of what makes us tick. Can’t learn that here in Roswell, you know?”

Alex nods. “Yeah.”

“So for you…” She studies him. “You don’t talk about Santa Fe much. I figure it can’t have been good.”

Alex sucks in a breath. “No.”

“And Jesse Manes…” She pauses. “Can’t imagine you’ll be sad to leave him. So go. For once, go where you want to go, okay?”

And Alex grabs her hand. “I really think I will.”

***

They’re eating dinner around the dining room table. It was Alex’s night to cook, and he’d made some Hamburger Helper.

Jesse clears his throat, and Alex tenses.

“With football season over, son, have you given any more thought to which branch you want to join?”

Michael pushes noodles around his plate, doesn’t look up. “Uh, well, if I go into the military, I was thinking maybe the Air Force.”

Jesse stills. “If?”

“Sir?”

“ _If_ you go into the military?” Alex watches Michael’s head drop even more. Jesse leans forward. “If? What the hell else would you do?”

Michael purses his lips. “My SAT scores are really good, Dad. Like, really good. And with my extracurriculars, and references, I just thought – “

“What? What did you think, son?”

“I thought maybe I’d apply to some schools. For engineering? Um, robotics maybe?”

“Where you getting these ideas?” Jesse says, too calm, and his eyes flick to Alex.

Michael notices, and he swallows reflexively. “Nowhere. Nowhere. Nevermind. It’s, it’s stupid anyway.”

Jesse puts down his cutlery. “I think dinner’s done. Thank you, Alex, for making it.”

Alex says nothing, looks down at his almost-full plate.

“And now I need you to do something for me,” Jesse says, again with that maddeningly calm, cold voice. He fishes in his pocket, takes out his car keys. “We’re almost out of laundry detergent.”

Alex frowns. “I, I think there’s still another bottle in the cabinet.”

“We are almost out of laundry detergent,” Jesse repeats, slower this time. “Get in the car and buy some more. _Now._ ”

Shit, shit, shit. Alex makes himself breathe. Looks between Jesse and Michael, who looks… who looks scared, fuck. Michael nods at Alex, a barely noticeable motion.

Alex pushes away from the table, leans back in his chair. Folds his arms and stares Jesse down. “No.”

“Alex, just _go,_ ” Michael grits out, almost angrily.

And Jesse… he’s fucking laughing. “So this is what you decide to take a stand over, huh?” His tongue is working in his mouth, and he’s looking at Alex. “After all this time…you think I don’t know how you look at him? It’s sick, is what it is.”

Alex’s eyes close. “I’m not leaving,” he manages.

And Jesse’s up, fast, coming toward him.

“No!” Michael screams, trying to put his body in between them. Jesse shoves him away, hard, and he falls, his head catching the corner of the table.

“Michael!” Alex screams, and he feels it. Last time he felt it, like this, was Santa Fe. Guy’s hand on his jeans, moving higher…

He’d brought down a tree, then.

He makes himself breathe, just breathe.

Jesse’s hand is on his upper arm now, squeezing hard, dragging him through the living room, into his bedroom, throwing him to the ground and slamming the door with a hard glare. Alex hears the lock turn, effectively trapping him.

Except for him, it’s not a trap.

He, he knows he could get out so easily – it would be almost effortless. But then, then Jesse would _know._ Even if he made up some shit about picking the lock, Jesse would still know. Alex knows he already suspects.

Is, is he willing to risk that… for Michael?

He is.

If, if it really came down to it, he would. But he hopes it doesn’t come to that. So instead, he slumps against the door. Listens.

He can’t even make out any specific words, really… but he also doesn’t hear shouts. Doesn’t hear anything that sounds like, like violence. Just Jesse’s voice, low, and Michael’s, more strained… that one he _can_ hear.

“No… no… yes, yes sir…”

And then footsteps, one set, going into Michael’s room. Door closes.

And now Alex’s door swings open, dumping him into the hallway. Jesse crouches down, nearly eye level with Alex.

“If you _ever…”_ he says, in that measured, hard tone. “I know things, Alex. You know that I do.”

Alex can’t even say anything, to that. Jesse stands and shakes his head. “Go to bed.”

***

It’s the last anyone says about college.

Michael won’t quite look at Alex. It’s almost three days later that Alex corners him in the cafeteria. Michael is with Max, Liz, and Isobel. The bruise is going green at the edges. He’s lucky he didn’t hit his eye.

“Can I talk to you?”

Michael glares at him, and Alex glares right back. With an exaggerated sigh, Michael pushes up from the table, follows Alex to the bathroom.

Alex isn’t expecting Michael to round on him so quickly. “The _fuck_ were you thinking?”

“What?” Alex says, incredulous. “I was thinking that I didn’t want him to fucking _kill_ you.”

“You’ve made everything worse now. I… I never should have said anything. I had it under control.”

Alex scoffs. “Oh yeah, that looked _real_ controlled.”

“You don’t have a goddamn clue.”

And now Alex is shaking his head. “Don’t I, Michael? The fuck do you know about where I’ve been, what I’ve seen? What people…” and _fuck it all_ , his damn voice breaks. He hears it and so does Michael. “What people have fucking done to me. Tried to do. People are _monsters,_ Michael. Fucking monsters. They pretend like they’re not, like _we’re_ the enemy – “

Oh _shit._ He looks quickly at Michael who, mercifully, is mostly just looking angry still, and hasn’t heard Alex’s slip.

Alex shakes his head. Maybe… maybe this is better. Michael hating him. Avoiding him. What did he think was going to happen, anyway, once they turned 18? They’d ride into the fucking sunset together? No, fuck. It was always gonna end like this. Bad.

“You know what?” Alex makes himself say. “Forget it. I don’t fucking care. Go join the fucking Air Force. Suck your dad’s dick some more. I don’t care.”

Alex can’t even look at Michael before he runs out of the bathroom.

***

“What is up with you?”

“Hmmm?”

Maria’s frowning. “The bond, it’s been all fucked up the past week. Ever since – “

Alex sighs. The night of the altercation with Jesse. Maria had texted him nonstop. She’d said that she’d felt him, that things were _off._ She was scared. “It’s nothing, okay. Just… nothing.”

Should he tell her and Liz? About Jesse? It’s something he thinks about every day. On the one hand, he would want to know. If Mimi or Arturo were making threats, implying they knew shit… he’d want to know, come up with a plan. Together. But on the other hand, why make them worry needlessly? He doesn’t think that Jesse knows about Maria and Liz – how could he? If he does, he’s never mentioned it. If it’s just Alex, well… he’ll be gone in a few months, Roswell forever in his rearview. And with him will go whatever fucking target’s on his back. He can do it by himself. He’s always done it by himself.

But he’s lonely. Lonely since Michael started talking to him less, keeping to himself more. Dinners at the house are tense, stilted. And it’s like, like people at school can tell, too. Kyle Valenti, for one. He was on the football team with Michael. Not friends, really, but they get along. Kind of. Kyle’s a bully, but in the past, Alex was never in his crosshairs. And he doesn’t know what Michael’s told him, if anything. But it’s like Kyle knows they’re not getting along, and that Alex is… different. When he was friends with Michael, before, it was like he was off limits. But now…

It comes to a head in May. Valenti’s made little comments before, here and there, about Alex’s sexuality. He doesn’t think… he really hopes it wasn’t Michael that said something about it. But it’s not till prom when Kyle really crosses a line. They end up in a fist fight and Michael, fucking Michael is _right_ there, and for a moment, Alex doesn’t know _what_ he’s going to do, but as soon as Kyle’s other football buddies jump in, there’s Michael, leaping to his side, asking _Alex_ if he’s okay, and telling Kyle to fuck off.

“It’s gonna bruise,” Michael is saying, fingertips carefully stroking Alex’s jaw, and _shit,_ this is doing things to Alex that it shouldn’t.

Alex jerks his head away. “Yeah. Whatever.”

“You need ice,” Michael says. “It helps.”

“I know that,” Alex says, and at that, they look at each other, that shared knowledge of two kids who have had to deal with way, way too much shit.

“Let’s, let’s just go home,” Michael says.

“What about Tess?” Alex asks.

Michael gives a half-smile, looks down. “She already ditched me. She’s been all over Aaron Greenway since, like, ten minutes in. I… I’m pretty sure we’re done. For good this time.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex says.

“I’m not,” Michael whispers. He tugs on Alex’s hand, then. “Come on. Home. Now. I’ll drive.”

***

Ever since… everything with Michael and Jesse after the college application blowup, Alex has been spending a lot of time in the toolshed. He’s, well, he’s made it his own, almost – posters, a throw blanket, the guitar. And it’s like an unspoken agreement – Jesse doesn’t bother him, Michael leaves him be… it’s more private than his room, and he goes there to clear his head.

It’s the last week of school, and he’s out in the shed, practicing chords and making up lyrics in his head. Without warning, the door swings open.

Alex’s head jerks up.

“Hey,” Michael says, easygoing. “Just wanted you to know I’m back. And he’s gone.”

Alex allows himself a smile, a real one. Jesse’s at a week-long training. Somewhere in D.C. He’d sat them down last night for a long lecture and made Michael drive him to the airport today. “Yeah? What are you gonna do?”

And suddenly, Michael looks nervous. He glances around the shed before pulling the door shut behind him. “I’m, um…”

Alex frowns. Michael… he doesn’t look well. He looks nervous, and his face is pale. “Hey, are you okay?” Alex asks, setting his guitar aside and moving as if to stand.

“No!” Michael says. “No, don’t get up, just…” He blows out a breath and looks at Alex. And then, to Alex’s absolute astonishment, he drops to his knees, right in front of him, puts his hands on Alex’s shoulders, and _leans in._

Alex springs to his feet. “What the actual _fuck_ , Michael?” he shouts. “Is this…” he turns away. “Did… did Kyle put you up to this? Is this some joke?”

Michael’s sitting back on his heels now, looking stricken. “Joke? Kyle? What?”

Alex is biting his lip. “You… I know things have been different between us, since everything with your dad. I know I said some shit to you, and… and I’m sorry about that. But you’ve never, you’ve never been _mean_ , Michael.”

“Mean?” Michael’s shaking his head. “I don’t, I don’t…”

And Alex is just feeling… so many damn feelings right now. Angry, at Michael. Betrayed, maybe? Hurt and embarrassed to be the target of… whatever this fucking is. He’s moving toward the door of the shed when he feels a hand on his.

“Wait, Alex.”

And god help him, he does. Stops, turns, and looks down at Michael, really _looks_.

And Michael, he’s… he’s looking just as wrecked as Alex feels. Maybe worse.

“We have a week left, Alex, at school. A week. And after that, it’s graduation, and then you turn 18, and…” There’s a shuddery breath. “And he’s finally fucking gone, for a whole week, and I thought, now’s the chance, I’m gonna be fucking brave and finally, finally – “

“Finally _what_ , Michael?” Alex asks, exasperated and off-kilter.

Michael, still on his knees, looks up at him, then. With those big amber eyes, through those long eyelashes, face so open. “I think I love you, Alex.”

Alex sits down on the bench, shocked. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “No. You can’t. You’re…” he looks at Michael, confused. “You and Tess?”

Michael bites his lip. Pauses. “Can I sit?” he asks, finally. Alex gives a little nod, tries not to stare at the dust on the knees of Michael’s jeans.

“You told me something once,” Michael murmurs. “That, when you like someone, your body, um, your body decides.” He swallows nervously. “But I always felt like my body _didn’t_ decide, not really, because… because it seemed like it was giving me mixed messages, you know?”

Alex _doesn’t_ know, just stares at him.

Michael bites his lip. “Like, girls.” He exhales. “ _And_ guys.”

Alex freezes.

“But,” Michael continues, “there’s one person my body likes that, finally, um, the rest of me likes, too. And that’s you, Alex.”

***

It’s the happiest week of Alex’s life.

They’re together, in every way. Free in a way they’ve never been, not under Jesse’s roof. It feels surreal, to Alex, that this beautiful person, who he’s loved for so long – _years,_ really, if he’s being honest – loves him back.

And yes, he knows he’s 17, that maybe he’s too young to know what love _really_ is, but fuck, if this isn’t it, then what could it possibly be?

There’s sex, a lot of it. Neither of them are practiced. They watch some porn, to try to get the basics down, but mostly end up just laughing about it and doing their own thing. It feels… like everything Alex thinks it _should_ feel like – heady and wonderful and connected.

He loves the way Michael looks. He loves the way Michael feels.

They pool their money and order pizza, then Chinese, so they don’t have to leave the house that weekend. Don’t have to leave bed. Jesse calls every night at 9:30 and they answer, naked, barely suppressing grins.

They’re so naïve. So _fucking_ naïve.

They make themselves go to school Monday, but skip out early on Tuesday with Liz and Max. They pile up in Alex and Michael’s Jeep and ride out into the desert, just happy and young and _together._ Max and Liz are talking about taking a road trip together this summer.

“What about Northwestern?” Michael asks.

“I’ll defer a year,” Max shrugs, grinning at Liz.

She smiles right back. “We could see the ocean.”

“The mountains,” Max adds.

They reach an overlook and Liz produces a little six-pack of beer. “It’s not much,” she says.

“Alex and I can share one,” Michael says, smiling, and Liz gives them a little look. Alex takes out his guitar, then, and plays. Max and Liz dance – well, Liz dances, Max attempts to move his body in some semblance of rhythm, and they all collapse, laughing.

“This is fun,” Liz says to Alex at a quiet moment as they watch Michael and Max throw a football around.

“Hey Miguelito!” she cries, and Michael trots over.

“Qué?” he asks obligingly.

“I want a picture of you and Alex, over by the Jeep.”

“Gladly,” he says, as he pulls Alex with him.

If Alex only knew, then, how much that picture would haunt him, with the two of them leaning against the back of the Jeep, frozen forever in time. Michael smiling at Alex and looking directly at the camera with those wide, happy eyes…

They’re in Michael’s bed that night, clothes discarded. “Need to tell you something,” Michael says.

“Anything,” Alex murmurs, biting his lip a little and looking at Michael.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Michael says, and he seems so serious, in a way Michael rarely is.

“Okay…”

A slow smile spreads across Michael’s face. “I’m not going Air Force.”

Alex’s brow furrows.

“After… after that fight with my dad, I went to the post office. Got a P.O. box. Started staying late after school. I was never really in Spanish Club.”

“Alright,” Alex says, unsure of where this is going.

“I applied. To schools.”

Alex eyes widen. “What?”

“Yeah. MIT, Stanford, CMU, Cal Tech.”

“Holy shit, Michael,” Alex is muttering. “Holy shit…”

“Yeah.” Michael’s nodding his head. “And, I got accepted. To a bunch. And, um, I said yes. To Carnegie Mellon. I start in the fall. Pittsburgh.”

“Oh fuck, Michael,” Alex says, and he loves him so much in this moment. “Fuck, fuck, I’m so proud of you!” Alex is pulling Michael against him, now, carding hands through his hair, kissing him full on the lips because he _can._ “Fuck, I’m so glad, so glad for you.”

And Michael melts, just sinks against him. “God, thank you. I was really fucking scared, like the whole time. I mean, I’m still scared, of Dad, but… but you made me less scared, Alex. You made me feel like I could do this, like what I wanted _meant_ something.”

“It means everything, Michael.”

Michael hugs him tightly. “And what if… what if I told you I wanted you to come with me?”

Alex stills. “What?”

“Come with me, Alex. If you want to, I mean. Maybe Liz and Max aren’t the only ones who should take a summer road trip, you know? Like, we could get out of here, soon as I turn 18. Get summer jobs somewhere, save some money. CMU’s giving me a full ride – we could get a little place together in Pittsburgh. I’ve been reading all about it. It could be… could be nice.”

And Alex kisses Michael, now, a _real_ kiss, one that he tries to put his very being into, every ounce of feeling and, yeah, _love_.

“Yes, Michael. Yes.”

They skip school the next day, too. Don’t leave the bed till 11am, make bacon, don’t bother cleaning, then cozy up with Michael’s laptop and look at maps of Pittsburgh, guidebook blurbs about the city, articles about CMU.

“You’ll be so good, Michael. Their robotics program looks incredible.”

“Maybe you could even apply, too. You’ve always been, like, ridiculously good with computers.”

Alex shrugs. He _is_ ridiculously good with computers. Like… kind of scarily good. Maybe even, um, _alien_ good? Like he’s honestly wondered if his ease with them isn’t something beyond just a talent. It’s never even occurred to him to really _do_ anything with it, but with Michael here, talking like this, with them going to Pittsburgh, to a good school, _together_ …

Well, anything feels possible.

They’re in the shed that night, sprawled across the blankets and pillows they’ve dragged in. Michael’s in just his boxers, draped across Alex’s bare legs as Alex plays his guitar. They’re relaxed, well-fucked, a little drunk. It’s perfect.

Then the phone rings.

Michael’s eyes widen. “Shit!” he exclaims, scrambling for his discarded jeans flung over the tool bench. “It’s 9:32, it’s Dad checking in, we missed the house phone. _Fuck._ ” He pulls the phone out of the pocket of his jeans, answers it. “Dad!” he says, sounding out of breath and fucking suspicious. Damn it. Alex frowns.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I’m out in the shed with Alex.” Michael pauses. “Just playing some guitar… Yeah… School was good… Uh huh.” Michael gives Alex a thumbs up, and he allows himself a measure of relaxation.

Then Michael stiffens. “What?” A swallow, a nervous glance. “They called you? Dad, no… What?”

And then the door to the shed is opening, and there’s Jesse, taking up the whole doorway, cellphone in hand, face a mask of cold fury.

This can’t be happening. It’s, it’s Wednesday. He’s not supposed to be back till _Saturday_ , and they’re half dressed, and drunk, and –

“Dad,” Michael’s saying, and when did he stand up?

“In my house,” Jesse’s hissing, voice low. “Under my roof.” He’s advancing on Alex, has him by the throat now, and he’s pushing, pushing him against the wall, and he’s _gasping_ , choking, and Alex…

Oh fuck. Don’t lose it. Don’t lose it. Lose it and Jesse _knows_. But don’t, don’t just let him _do_ this, let him squeeze the life out of you in front of the only fucking person who’s ever meant anything to you on this whole fucking planet…

“ _No!_ ”

Alex registers Michael’s scream, dimly. Feels the sudden release of pressure from his neck and falls to the floor of the shed, wheezing.

In his periphery, Alex sees Michael charge Jesse, but… but Jesse’s ready for Michael. Alex is dizzy from the lack of oxygen, unfocused. He hears a crack, a thud, and Michael’s down, on the ground, with Jesse practically on top of him.

“Shut your goddamn mouth and _stay here_ ,” he grits out, pushing Michael into the dirt floor. His attention’s on Alex then, one hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder, and it _hurts._ Reflexively, he tries to twist away, but Jesse’s strong, dragging him.

Jesse throws him out of the shed and locks it from the outside, trapping Michael.

Alex doesn’t know it then, but that’s the last time, the last time he’ll see Michael for years. And, and he never forgets it – Michael, battered, lying in the dirt, those big eyes wide with fear. With guilt.

He lets Jesse drag him, because what else can he do? Bring down another tree? Alert the whole neighborhood, and Michael, that there’s a fucking alien in their midst? Jesse isn’t careful with him. He’s ripped out clumps of hair, and Alex thinks that this is probably why they make people get those fucking buzzcuts, in the military. He’s… he’s not thinking right. Things are still hazy for him, after being choked. Far removed, he hears the door to the shed rattle. He should unlock it. He should, he should…

They’re in the house now, he and Jesse, and they’re… they’re going to the basement, he realizes. Jesse gets him to the top of those steep, narrow stairs, pauses just a moment, and _pushes._

He comes to later. He never does find out how long he was out. Before this, he didn’t even know if he _could_ pass out. He’s sitting on one of the dining room chairs, which Jesse has backed right up against a metal support pole. His arms are threaded through the slats of the back of the chair, cuffed at the wrists behind him, behind the pole.

And his leg…

Fuck. Oh holy fuck.

His right leg is, is broken. Fucking shattered, more like. At the calf, below the knee, just, like, snapped. Between the sight of it and the pain, he vomits. Tries to turn his head but it still ends up on his shoulder, his bare chest.

He’d always sworn he’d never use his powers while he lived with Jesse Manes. Not unless there was an emergency. Well this, _this_ is a fucking emergency. Alex closes his eyes, focuses as best he can despite the white heat of the pain, and tries to open the cuffs.

Nothing.

Shit.

He tries again.

Oh god.

It’s then that he notices the fine yellow powder covering his skin. He assumes it’s all over him – he licks his lips and he can fucking _taste_ it. Could that be the reason he can’t use his fucking powers?

What… what has Jesse done?

Then he hears it – the heavy door at the top of the stairs being pulled shut, and the sound of boots, step-by-step descending the stairs.

And all too suddenly, Jesse Manes is standing in front of him.

He’s holding a second dining room chair and a folder. Sets the chair opposite Alex, puts the folder on the floor. Takes a seat, and stares.

“You had me going, for a while.” Jesse leans back in the chair. “There were actually, actually times I _forgot_ , what you were.”

Alex’s palms are clammy. He’s cold, but he’s sweating. It’s the shock, probably – of the injury, of this whole situation.

Jesse looks thoughtful. “I… I can almost respect it. I’m a military man myself. You did a hell of a job, blending in, playing the asshole teenager.” He gives a little half-snort. “The clothes. The attitude.” He shakes his head a little. “You were… annoying. Harmless, but annoying.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “We know better now, don’t we?”

He’s out of the chair, quicker than Alex expects, and his hand is back on Alex’s neck, squeezing, jamming his head back into the support pole. “He was a _child,_ my goddamn _son_ and you, you…” Jesse makes a pained sound and gives Alex’s head one final shove against the pole before releasing his neck. Alex’s head hangs, gasping for breath.

“You ruined him,” Jesse says quietly. “And here we are.”

Alex is still sucking in deep breaths and avoiding Jesse’s eyes.

“Like I said, you’re good. I’ve never seen you slip up. All these years. Been watching you.” He’s circling Alex. “But we are long overdue for a chat. Man to – “ Jesse pauses, laughs a little. “Well, man to whatever the hell you are.”

And fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Alex should have run years ago. The first time he had a bad feeling about Jesse, he should have just bolted. But, but there was Maria and Liz to consider. Michael. He’s an idiot, and now he’s going to pay.

“What can you do?”

Alex is silent.

“What can you do?” Jesse repeats.

“I don’t know what you’re – “

“Bullshit you don’t,” Jesse mutters. “You’re a fucking alien, you have to be. You’re certainly not human. Got a hair sample the first week you were here. It’s not fucking human.” His eyes narrow, and a smile suddenly plays at his lips. “And you’re not the only one.”

He gets the folder, then, takes out two pictures. Liz, waiting tables at the Crashdown. Maria, laughing at the Pony with Mimi. And maybe it’s the pain, or the fear, but Alex can’t school his features. His eyes are wide as he looks up at Jesse, and Jesse _knows_. Smiles.

“Yeah, I know about them, too. All this time.” Jesse leans in. “So, I’ll ask again. What can you do?”

“Nothing,” Alex says.

Jesse scoffs. “That really the story you’re going with? You have to be smarter than that. Or would you rather I get these two in here?” he asks, throwing the pictures of Liz and Maria in Alex’s lap. “I might not be so polite with them. Or, better…”

His voice trails off, and he opens the folder again, takes out another picture and holds it in front of Alex.

He looks, sucks in a pained, confused breath. It… it’s a picture of a woman. Well, not a _human_ woman. Not dissimilar to Liz, really. Beautiful, probably… when she was alive. Not alive in this picture, though. Dead, dead, cut open. Dissected. Glowing orbs peeking out of her lower abdomen.

And Alex suddenly realizes what this means. There were _more_ of them. At some point, here on Earth, there were more. He always thought so – someone probably needed to have manned the ship, but to see it like this… He bites his lip.

“It’s been years since we had ones so young, so healthy. It’s why I brought you here. We’ve _never_ had one in the wild before, and here you three were. They were already placed, but you… figured I’d keep an eye on you. Observe you.” Jesse laughs, bitterly. “You seemed harmless – too harmless.” His face goes cold. “And that’s on me. So unless you want me to bring the girls in, tell me,” he leans in, enunciates every word. “What can you do?”

Alex shouldn’t tell him anything, not a damn thing. He should let him rage and spit and do whatever the hell he wants to Alex. But… but…

If he kills Alex, if Alex isn’t… isn’t here anymore… who would protect them? Maria and Liz?

Michael, even?

So, what he says next… it’s not a lie. But it’s also not the whole truth.

“Computers.”

Jesse’s head whips toward him. “What?”

Alex clears his throat – his voice is fucked. “Computers. I’m really good with them, like I can get them to do whatever I want. They just come to me really naturally,” he explains.

“Computers? That’s it?” Jesse asks.

“Yeah,” Alex says.

“And the others?”

Alex makes his eyes go wide. “I, I dunno. Nothing yet. I mean, we’re all really young still. They haven’t noticed anything.”

Jesse sits back down in the chair. Looks thoughtful.

“I’m going to tell you what’s happening next,” he says, voice low and quiet. “You’re gone. Out of my house. You…” The rage is picking back up. “You had to go and fuck him, didn’t you?” His mouth is twisting around. “You monster. You absolute…” he trails off. Regroups. “You’re gonna stick around here. Roswell. And you better toe the goddamn line. Do as I say.”

Alex looks up, confused. “What?”

“I may require your assistance, on future projects. I expect you to comply.”

Alex looks down at his broken leg. “Why the _fuck_ would I do that?”

Jesse’s in his face again. “Because I think that even a creature like you has _some_ regard for its own kind. If you don’t follow my instructions, to the letter, I’m going after the others. I have connections, folks who would love to get their hands on a live female specimen again. Young and healthy. Fertile.”

Alex feels so cold, at that. Cold and scared.

“Do we have a deal?”

And what can he say? He’s fucked, absolutely fucked.

He nods.

Jesse takes it for what it is. An agreement. “Good,” he says briskly. “I’ve already chipped you.”

“What?”

“Microchip, while you were passed out. Upper arm.” The pain in Alex’s leg is so overwhelming that he has to just trust Jesse – if there’s a wound on his arm, he can’t even feel it. Jesse smiles. “It’s what I’d do to any animal that belonged to me.” He tilts his head, considers Alex. “If you need to leave Roswell, you let me know in advance, or I’m coming for the others. And not just me. I call my government connections. They act fast.”

Jesse comes up behind Alex and unlocks the cuffs. Alex slumps forward, feeling a new wave of pain overtake him, and he tries not to retch again.

“This leg looks broken,” Jesse says, giving Alex’s right leg a little kick with his heavy boots. Alex cries out in pain. Jesse looks satisfied. “Might want to take care of that. I’m giving you 15 minutes to get out of this house.” Jesse stands up to his full height now. “And stay the _fuck_ away from my son. You touch him again and, and I don’t even care. I’ll _kill_ you. And the others.”

***

Liz tries. She does.

“I fell,” Alex says, over and over. “I… I fell.”

Arturo’s visiting Rosa in rehab, so they set Alex up in Liz’s bed. She’s screaming with the effort, swigging acetone, blood dripping from her nose. “Fuck!” she cries. “I, I’m not strong enough. God _damn_ it.”

“It, it’s a little better, Liz. Let’s just give it some time, try again in the morning, okay?”

But things aren’t better in the morning. They’re worse, much worse.

“What the fuck is that?” Liz asks, blearily. She’s woken Alex up. It’s been… one long haze, really, since he left the Manes house. “Alex, Alex look at your leg.”

His leg’s a mess. It smells awful. Is it… is it infected? Liz’s healing helped a little, but now, looking down at the wound, there’s a, a –

“A handprint?”

It’s Liz’s handprint. Shimmering and alien.

“Oh fuck,” Alex breathes.

“Is it permanent, do you think?” Liz asks.

“I dunno,” Alex says.

He keeps passing out and waking up. Passing out and waking up.

“He’ll die if we don’t do something.”

“My fucking handprint is on his _leg._ ” Liz is shaking her head. “We can’t show up to the hospital like this.”

“Yes, we can, if I’m there.”

“No, _no,_ ” Liz is saying, glaring at Maria. “It’s too risky. And we don’t know how powerful you are. Like, if we go there, and it doesn’t work, like, like my powers didn’t work, if it’s not _enough_ , then – “

“I’m stronger,” Maria says bluntly. “I use my powers all the time. Too often probably. For dumb shit. They’ll work. For this, they’ll work.”

“Dammit, Maria,” Liz mutters. “Dos días más, okay? Then we go.”

“Two days,” Maria says, solemnly.

Alex dreams about Michael. About Jesse. About Santa Fe. About the pods. About Liz and Maria. About an apartment, in Pittsburgh. Computers and robots and music…

Scalpels and restraints and screams…

“Michael stopped by.”

Alex startles. “What? You didn’t let him – “

Liz scoffs. “No. Of course not. Couldn’t let him see the handprint. Told him about your accident, though. He feels really bad about it. Seemed really upset.”

Alex swallows thickly.

“He says goodbye.”

“What?”

Liz peers at him. “He, he said to tell you that tomorrow’s his birthday, so he has to leave tonight. For Pittsburgh, I think? Said he hopes you can make it out there, too.” Liz’s face turns sad, suddenly. “Were you guys supposed to go on, like, a birthday trip?”

And a part of Alex is glad for him. He really is.

But mostly, he can’t… he can’t even think about it.

Maria’s plan works.

She mind warps some ER doctor into giving it to them straight. Overlooking the obvious biological differences and giving them all a hell of a dressing down. There are words like infection, tissue death… The amputation is performed that night. They say he’s lucky to be alive.

Alex isn’t so sure.

There will be months… years of recovery ahead. Physical rehab, occupational therapy, prosthetists…

He catches Liz crying, one day, and realizes it’s September. And she’s still here.

“I sent him away,” she says, and of course Alex knows who she means. “Made Maria send him away,” she clarifies. “I think, I think he would have stayed here with me. And I couldn’t do that to him, not when he wants so much.” Alex holds her to him, close, lets her ruin his t-shirt and exhaust herself.

Maria comes with him to every appointment. “Just in case any wonky medical stuff comes up,” she says, but Alex knows it’s more to make sure he’s actually going, doing what he should.

And eventually, it all seems… normal. He and Liz get an Airstream, turn it into a little lab. They experiment with their powers. He puts together a custom computer, a powerful one.

Checks in every few months with Jesse Manes, like a fucking parolee.

He learns to navigate the world with one leg. Navigate the stares and the questions, tell the story again and again…

_Yeah, I fell. Down a staircase. Yeah. It was an accident, a bad one. Broke my leg. Didn’t think it was a big deal. Yeah, should have gone to the hospital right away. It got infected. No way to save it…_

What he _doesn’t_ learn is how to navigate a life without Michael.

He tries, he fucking tries. Drives up to Albuquerque a few times after clearing it with the Master Sergeant. Fucks around. Feels empty.

After a while he just… stops trying.

He looks up Michael’s name, every so often. Awards in undergrad, prizes in grad school. A doctorate. Research grants.

It’s better this way, Alex knows.

Maria actually meets someone. Isobel Evans, of all people. They fall in love. Get fucking married.

And Liz… Liz never leaves. Clever Liz, she sticks around and takes care of them all – Alex, Maria, Rosa, Arturo.

And life goes on. And on… _creeps_ _in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time_ …

He’d had to memorize that for Honors English. With Michael. They’d written it on notecards, gone around the house reciting it. Fuck.

_And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death._

And he remembers Michael, on the floor of the toolshed, lying in the dust. And wasn’t that a kind of death? Of their youth, of their love. They were _certainly_ fools.

_Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury._

_Signifying nothing._

And yet.

And yet.

After ten years, ten long years… a decade of petty pace, of tomorrows and tomorrows and tomorrows…

In some cosmic coincidence he’s still not sure is a blessing or a curse, all the loose ends of the past just… converge.

Crash?

In Roswell.

And Alex? Well… for the first time in a decade, he _hopes_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and thank you to the organizers of the RNM Fanfic Remix 2020!
> 
> And most of all, thank you to reachedthebitterend for creating "freaky friday," the inspiration for this fic! I had an incredible catalog of work to choose from. Please go read "freaky friday" - it's excellent, and such a creative idea that I feel so lucky to get to piggyback on here with this work.
> 
> If you like, come say hello over on tumblr (aewriting).


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